Loth-Cat
by Bellatlas
Summary: Kanan is offered his sight back, but it comes at an unforeseen cost.
Summary: Kanan is offered his sight back, but the procedure comes with unforeseen side-effects.

* * *

The news is quite a shock to Kanan. He's been told so many times that his vision is irreparable, that the phrase "we can give you eyes again," seems wrong, like it's lacking something: lacking a negative. When the resistance was still young, fixing his eyes _was_ out of the question. But, they've grown- grown and gotten their hands on better technology.

Kanan turns the phrase over again and again in his mind, picking at it, trying to make it confess what the catch is. It's been three years since he departed with his sight, two since his blindness ceased to be an excruciatingly dark cage. He's finally fallen into a new rhythm of life: one that, while the rebel's war rages more and more each day, he's more or less happy with.

Eyes are unnecessary, really. "No. No, I think I'm okay as it is," Kanan tells the medic who has come to speak with him. But then, Ezra puts a hand on his master's shoulder and, in a pillow-soft tone, asks "are you sure?"

Those words are what break him, make him waver slightly. Ezra's voice is so deep now, a far cry from the chipper youthful tone that Kanan first stumbled into all those years ago. It's changed so much. If Ezra's _voice_ can go through such a transition, just imagine what he _looks_ like now. Kanan has tried not to think about things like that since Malachor. After all, it's pointless to dwell on things that he wants when he can never have them, or even things he wants that _are_ feasible _._ In the war, you get what you need, and if you're not happy with that, then you shouldn't be fighting.

But, he's actually being offered a chance to get what he wants, to get what he thought he'd never be able to have again. Kanan feels Ezra study him, wondering why he's not jumping at this opportunity to see and better help the rebellion.

"It's up to you, love," Hera says gently, placing her hand on Kanan's other arm. "You… you're _sure_ it's safe, though?" she questions, turning back towards the medic.

The procedure that was described to them just minutes earlier sounded… rather gory and complicated. Kanan can't remember all of it, but little bits stick out in his mind: flat cybernetic implants…rewiring of the optic nerves…something about the midbrain? It all sounds very risky.

"Oh, it's quite safe," the medic replies in a cool, professional tone normally only achieved by droids. "We've run the surgery through our systems many times and have even done a successful experimental surgery on a loth-cat. We don't anticipate any lasting side-effects or drawbacks."

Kanan can practically feel the twisted, pouting face of concern that Hera makes, but when he tries to construct the image in his mind, he falls short. He thought that he'd never forget that face, but it's just been _so long_ since he's seen it… He needs to see that face again.

Kanan holds his hand out to shake with the medic. "I'm in."

* * *

There's no change when Kanan wakes up from surgery. It's all the same: just sound and touch and smell and no sight. His eyes, or where his eyes _should_ be, haven't hurt like this in a long time- not since Hera applied antiseptic to the freshly burned sockets immediately after he returned from Malachor. The weight of the cybernetic eyes where his real ones used to be is foreign and uncomfortable, itchy even.

He knows that the entire crew is gathered around him, though, so he tries to keep any outward signs of pain to a minimum.

"I still can't _see!"_ he hisses. His words are slurred and unclear from all of the drugs still in his system though, and he's pretty sure that none of the crew members are able to make out what he has to say.

Then, there's a sudden weight on Kanan's stomach: a sudden _furry_ weight. Just as Kanan is about to yell at Zeb to get his arm _off,_ he feels the tap of tiny talons across his body, and a distinctive low purring. Is that a _loth-cat?_

Ezra scrambles for the animal, purrs quickly turning into disjointed hisses until the padawan manages to get a firmer hold on the cat.

"This guy couldn't see at first, either, when he was first operated on," Ezra explains. The purring suddenly intensifies. Ezra must be petting it. "You're probably just following the same pattern as the loth-cat. He only first started showing signs of sight on day eight after the surgery. Don't worry."

* * *

But, Kanan _does_ worry. His new eyes cost the resistance no small amount of credits, and that couldn't have all been for a _waste._ Plus, he's ready to _see_ again, already! He let himself get his hopes up.

Sure enough, though, he opens his eyes on the morning of day eight and sees… _something._ It's just a blurry, barely-visible blob through the blackness, and if he hadn't lived on the _Ghost_ for all those years before he went blind, he wouldn't be able to tell that he's looking at his com-link on the table next to his bed.

But, _he's seeing_ _something,_ and he's never been more excited to see anything in his life as he is to see that com-link. The surgery worked.

* * *

Kanan follows in the loth-cat's footsteps perfectly: a full range of colors by day fifteen, the ability to focus his new eyes by day twenty-four, and sharpening of vision until it returns to standard human acuity on day thirty-six.

On Kanan's weekly trips to the medic's office, he's taken quite a liking to the loth-cat that hangs around there; it always stares up at him with cybernetic eyes of its own, giving its tail a slight wag and flapping its broad ears until Kanan gives in and scratches the poor thing under its chin.

It even spends time on the _Ghost_ every now and then. Of course, Hera can't afford to keep it, nor would she if given the choice, but any animal that allowed Kanan to get his sight back is welcome aboard for visits.

And _oh,_ how Kanan loves having his sight back! He studies Hera's facial expressions as if they're one of the wonders of the universe, spends one whole night going through all of Sabine's work from the past few years, and marveling at it all, because "they're _beautiful,_ Bean!" He spends half an hour standing in front of Ezra one morning, just studying how much the boy has _changed._ Ezra is still a bit short, a lasting memento from a childhood of malnutrition, but he's not a boy anymore. His jaw has a defined square edge covered in stubble that Ezra can never manage to fully keep away, eyes deeper set into his face, and an even darker mop of hair that's now held back in a short ponytail that resembles the one that Kanan once wore.

No sight ceases to amaze Kanan. Not hyperspace jumps, nor the red specks in his ration bars, or even the dull interior of the ship. He'll go outside during the most violent of storms just to watch the purple clouds roll in, punctuated by yellow flashes of lightning that highlight the sky in a vibrant, electric cyan, until Hera grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him inside, grumbling about his lack of common sense.

* * *

Then, one day, the loth-cat walks into a wall. It's not the end of the world, not yet. Everybody can be a bit clumsy at times. But then, it happens again later in the day. The next day, the whole crew is startled out of their sleep by the large crash of the cat walking into and knocking over a lamp. And _that_ begins the decent of the crew's new hopeful universe.

The verdict from the medics comes the day after: The loth-cat is indeed losing its sight. The crew all bands together to tell Kanan that it doesn't mean _anything!_ Just because this is happening to the loth-cat doesn't mean it will happen to him.

But, they all know better. Everything that happens to the loth-cat happens to Kanan, too.

* * *

Kanan counts down the days by continuing on as he has been: by watching Hera's expressions, by going through all of Sabine's art, by standing in front of Ezra and studying each scar and contour of his face.

But, it's not like before. No, before, these were the actions of a starved man's exuberance over finally being offered a proper meal. Now, he's desperate- Desperate to memorize every aspect of those he holds dear before they're swept away from him again.

Kanan's loth-cat continues to visit, as, in a strange way, the furry animal is Kanan's only true ally in all of this. It's the only one who knows what it's like to go blind for a second time.

Until he's fully blind again, though, he continues to watch and file every picture he can away into the stores of his mind to recall later… until Hera's fine expressions blur into smooth blank slates that can no longer carry her beauty. Until Kanan can't even make out the colors of Sabine's blurry artworks, and when he pretends that he can and tells her that they're gorgeous, because he knows that much, she just smiles at him, with tears streaming down her cheeks, and says "You don't have to lie for me, Kanan." Until Ezra, so grown up and accomplished, finally fades into the blackness, and Kanan has to trace the outline of his face to tell how much he's grown; Kanan can tell from the soft trembling of his padawan's lip that Ezra is just trying not to let telltale tears spill on to his fingers.

* * *

The next time Ezra is sent to go get the loth-cat, he's quickly pushed away by the gloved hands and hushed whispers of the medics. "He's sick right now," they tell him. "Come back tomorrow. He'll be better by then."

So he does, thrice more. Each time, he's given the same response.

The fourth time is different, though. The fourth time, a trio of medics, faces somber, say nothing and simply motion for Ezra to come back. Ezra knows instantly that this can't end well.

And, it doesn't. The room they lead him back to houses their loth-cat: limp and cool across the cold tile floor. The cybernetic eyes that somehow always seemed so full or life now are just metal spheres that stare straight ahead, boring holes in the wall. He reaches out with the force, knowing that there _has_ to be _something_ there. But, there's not. There's nothing. The loth-cat is dead.

Ezra feels a sharp stab of panic bubble up into his chest. No. No. This can't be happening.

A medic steps in front of Ezra, seeming to sense his distress, and bends down so that they can make eye contact.

"Your friend will be fine," he reassures in a soothing, silky voice. "The loth-cat stopped eating. That's what happened; it just got sick. It had nothing to do with its eyes. Your friend will be _fine."_

Ezra swallows and nods, accepting the medic's words for now as he makes his way back to the _Ghost._ But, a question still burns at the back of his mind: the medics were wrong once. Whose to say that they're not wrong again?

* * *

The first thing that Ezra does when he gets back to the _Ghost_ is check their stock of rations, hoping against all hope that they have just as much food as any other day. But, they don't. There's far too much, and this fact that would normally overjoy him makes Ezra's heart drops into his stomach.

With an arm-full of ration bars, Ezra strides down to Kanan's room, fully determined to make him eat.

Inside, Kanan sits on his bunk, fingers moving carefully across a paper as he writes plans for the squadron in barely legible ink, staring straight ahead. He doesn't need to look at the paper, Ezra remembers. There's nothing there for him.

"I think being blinded by Maul was better," Kanan says out of the blue, before Ezra can get a word out about rations.

"What?"

"It was quick. Over just as soon as it began. _This_ has been…" Kanan trails off, looking for the right word to fill in the blank, but eventually giving up with a sigh.

Kanan doesn't need words, though. Ezra understands. Maul blinding Kanan only hurt for a second. Losing his sight slowly has hurt Kanan just as much, but it never ends.

"Anyway." Kanan turns towards Ezra. "What did you need?"

"I- you haven't had any of your rations lately." Already, if Ezra looks closely, he can see a slight shadow across his master's face where Kanan's cheeks are sinking in ever so slightly.

"I really haven't been hungry lately," Kanan shrugs, and Ezra's chest seizes up a little bit. "Was that all?"

"Yeah, but… just, can you please eat one?" Ezra begs.

"I just told you I'm not hungry. I'll eat later."

"Kanan, _please!"_

Kanan's face hardens at his padawan's persistence, one that says _I mean it._ _"I_ said _not. Right. Now."_

With that, Ezra lets all of the ration bars drop to the floor, and steps forward, throwing his arms around his master and releasing a sob into Kanan's unsuspecting chest. He can explain to Kanan what's going on- he will. But, that doesn't change the fact that something is very _very_ wrong. Maybe it's the force, or maybe it's his own pessimism, but a knot in his gut tells him that Kanan won't be coming back from this one. Because, everything that happens to the loth cat happens to Kanan, as well.

* * *

A practice-fic to work on pacing on description.

Inspired by "Flowers for Algernon."

Any feedback and reviews are most welcome! ;)


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